


Two become one

by weirdlittlecookie



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Cockles, Episode Related, First Time, Frottage, Hand Jobs, M/M, episode 8.17, minor character bleed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-23
Updated: 2013-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-05 16:28:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1096109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/weirdlittlecookie/pseuds/weirdlittlecookie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Christmas present for a friend - kinks are from her wish list. I obliged. Hence the name.</p><p>"We're family. We need you. I need you."</p><p>Jensen changes the script but doesn't feel good about his acting choices. Misha is needed. Things ensue.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Two become one

**Author's Note:**

  * For [shotgunwithwings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/shotgunwithwings/gifts).



"We're family. We need you. I need you."

Misha drops the Diestel sausage he’s been using as an angel blade and falters to his knees. Enclosing Jensen's face in his hands he croaks "Oh Dean, I'm so sorry! I'll never hurt you again -- you're the love of my life, my baby daddy!"

They gaze into each other in complete silence for approximately two seconds before Jensen bellows out a laugh that shakes his entire body, Misha following with a giggle fit. The first one to find some composure, Misha wipes away tears from his eyes and says  
"Remind me again why we're doing this?" He scrambles back to his feet and offers a hand to Jensen. He takes it to hoist himself up, coming to lean at the counter beside Misha.

"Because it still doesn't feel right. And I'm not talking about that last one, fucker."

"After I asked them to change the line I've been wracking my brain to find the right angle to play the scene from. It's still big and emotional, and strenghtens Dean's and Cas' relationship."

"Are you referring to the profound bond?" Misha smirks, earning an elbow to his side.

"Ya, that one. I mean, even if Dean doesn't say the actual words, the uh, “I love you”, I want it to be evident all the same."

Misha nods, crossing his arms. "You were right about the change. Otherwise the next scene should have included a hotel room and a bucket of lubricant." Misha's contemplating look is met by Jensen's round eyes and he can feel his ears burning Hot Rod red. Misha furrows his brow minutely. "What, you don't like lubricant?"

"Misha, so not the point!"

"So that's a yes?"

"No! I mean yeah but no I mean --"

Jensen finally notices how hard Misha is fighting to keep his face straight. "You ass, you're playing me!" He moves in to elbow Misha again but this time Misha foresees it and steps aside, making Jensen lose his balance and topple onto Misha, sending them both on the floor in a heap of limbs. Jensen shoves his hands under Misha, trying to find momentum to turn him into a lock position while Misha is desperately trying to use his legs to wrench Jensen off of him. It all fails miserably, leaving Jensen in a tight embrace between Misha's open legs.

"Uh.. Misha?"

"Yes, Jensen?"

"How did this happen?"

"I'm not entirely sure but I know I should be topping."

Jensen snorts but gets up as fast as he can. The friction and Misha's words are affecting him more than he’d like to admit.  
"Whatever. Let's go through it one more time and then I'll give up."

Staying on his knees Jensen looks to Misha expectantly. Misha heaves himself in position, exaggerating his every move to make clear he's doing it only to humor Jensen.  
"Dude, forget the prop. Let's just get this over with." Jensen says and Misha leaves the thing on the counter. “What is it with the sausage, anyway?”  
“Just work in progress.” Misha replies nonchalantly, “I’ll let you know when the plan moves along.”

Jensen rolls his eyes before breathing in, starting his shift into Dean. On the exhale he pushes the character to the surface, all the images he's created for the man burdened with so much responsibility and knowledge on the belly-side of the world. All the pain. The loss. And how the man in front of him, his one true friend, who gave it all up for him, is about to crumble the final withering bud of light from his soul. Jensen observes Castiel taking form, Misha's easy smiles melting into an expression of utter indifference and absence. He still considers it the most amazing thing to see, how much Misha is able to give and push him to give. He lets that admiration seep into Dean and transform itself into incredulity and hurt that comes from realizing what Cas is about to do.

"Cas. Cas. I know you're in there. I know you can hear me. Cas... It's me. We're family. We need you. I need you."

His voice cracks, and he's not entirely sure which one said it, him or Dean. Jensen lets the feeling wash over him, mold his expression. His eyes sting and his breath comes out in heaves. Castiel's expression changes under his gaze, and he cup's the side of Dean's face. The sensation caused by the sofly calloused hand is incredible and a strangled whine escapes his slightly parted lips. Grasping blindly on the out-reached arm, he feels safe, home. He's still terrified but not because of fear of pain or death. But because it's Cas, he can't lose him, he can't let him go. He can't. Let. Go. Of either of them.

"Jen? Jensen! Come on, breathe for me!" Misha has dropped on his knees and is already out of character, although he seems to be wearing the same painstaking look of realization Cas woke up to. He's holding Jensen's face gingerly between his hands, running his thumbs over Jensen's cheeks, wiping away his tears. When did that happen, Jensen wonders absently, still trying to work his way through what seems to be a panic-attack.

Misha's searching his eyes, smiling faintly. "That was incredible Jen, I think you got it."

Jensen felt the same way, like he nailed the feeling. Only problem is, he went pass Dean and managed to push himself into an inpass.

  
"I think I might love you." He blurts out, watching Misha grow serious instantly. "I have for a while now. It's probably something you don't want to hear and -- and I'm sorry." Jensen shrugs his shoulders, feeling so lost. So helpless. Sure Misha is always making innuendos and completely riding the Destiel train but what if it is just that - friendly bantering and PR? He never says anything when he catches Jensen looking at him, never pulls away from a touch but that doesn't necessarily mean it's mirroring his own opinions.

  
Jensen aches to touch so bad his hands are twitching at his sides. He's too scared to move them, almost positive they would go into Misha's rumpled hair and neck and refuse to detach. So he remains still, waiting for the man to give him a sympathetic smile (cause that’s just the kind of person he is) or walk out because it’s too much. Jensen knows it’s too much.

Misha is just as still, perhaps even more so, eyes locked on Jensen’s. You could hear a pin drop, even the sounds outside the trailer seem to have died down. It’s just the two of them and Jensen realizes it might, actually, be only him.

 _Oh_.

His head drops and he nods furiously, fighting down a new wave of tears. Awkwardly he starts getting up, knees aching against the sudden movement. A hand tightens around his elbow, stilling Jensen to the spot and he turns back to Misha.

Misha looks just as serious as before, his eyes dark and intent.

  
Placing his hand on Jensen's cheek again, Misha slowly slides through the distance. Too shocked to even close his eyes, Jensen just stares. At Misha. Who stares right back. Who leans in to gently touch Jensen's lips with his own. They're softer than Jensen expects, the chapped line on Misha's lower lip sending a shiver through him.

  
Jensen lets out another soft whimper, a breath of relieve without breaking the light connection. His eyes slide shut in time with his exhale and he’s finally able to lift his arms. Just as he thought, his hands go straight for Misha’s neck and hair. Misha slides his hand to grip Jensen's jaw, the massaging movement making his mouth part. Humming appreciatively Misha slides his tongue against Jensen’s lip before pushing it in and his entire body follows suit - the last of the distance between them disappears, bodies touching from knee to chest. Jensen moves his hand from Misha’s neck to his lower back, making sure he’s not going anywhere. By the way Misha seems to be examining his tonsils he’s not feeling too worried about that though. Jensen closes his mouth lightly around Misha’s tongue, slowly letting it slide in and out while he sucks it. Misha’s entire body twitches and he reaches to grab Jensen’s ass, hoisting him up to his lap as he slumps down on his knees.

Jensen nestles in even closer as Misha pulls him in with both hands, gripping him tight. 

 

"I've wanted this so long, you have no idea. You're so incredible, so beautiful" Misha rambles softly under his breath between kisses. "You drive me crazy when you do that -- that look. Or bite your lower lip. Or just -- or just fucking _stand_. And _oh fuck do that again_."

Jensen smiles against Misha's neck, mouthing the tender skin once more. He runs his tongue up and sucks Misha's ear lobe in his mouth. He nips it lightly, rolling his hips forward in search for more friction. He's hard, he's so hard it's almost unbearable. He's imagined this so many times, wondered how it would feel to rut against Misha and feel their cocks grow hard at the mere touch. His fantasies didn't come close.

Misha's hands are still at Jensen's sides, pacing him. He grunts in frustration, and moves to dip Jensen under him. Jensen opens his legs wider, making more room for Misha's fervent thrusts.

"I have to get you out of these fucking things!"

"You mean my jeans?" Jensen chuckles, already sliding his hand between them. Taking his time, Jensen slowly unbuttons himself before moving his hand to cup Misha through the fabric. There's a loud groan at his ear and Misha's moving to open his own jeans, trying to rip his way out of them. Jensen would have laughed at that if he was capable of thinking. Since that wasn't the case he concentrated on shoving their jeans and boxers as low as he could from his position, gasping at the touch of skin on skin. Misha rubs his cock against his, taking both of them in his palm. Smearing pre-come over them both and sets out a quickly-building rhythm.

  
Jensen's mind is humming, he won't last long. Misha clashes their mouths in a wet sloppy kiss, his movements becomong even quicker. Jensen moves to place his hand in with Misha's to help with the increasingly erratic pulls.

Jensen feels his muscles tense and he soughts out Misha's eyes to lock them with his. The adoring look in Misha's darkened gaze send him over, back arching and he’s coming all over both of them. Misha follows right after, gasping loudly and he slumps down with his full weight on Jensen.

  
In the quiet, their slowing breaths the only sound in the trailer, Jensen feels blissfully happy. He strokes Misha's back, rubs the back of his scalp as Misha turns his head to give him a soft kiss. It's full of promise, and Misha nuzzles at his cheek.

  
"Next time, there will be a bed. I swear."

 


End file.
